


Eight

by MilesOfWords



Category: Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale)
Genre: AU, Happy little poly home, M/M, Male Snow White, Multi, Snow has attitude, Snow has no reason to return home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilesOfWords/pseuds/MilesOfWords
Summary: Some obsequious mirror (with impeccable taste) had pointed out that he, Snow, was the fairest in all the land. So what did his stepmother,the mad Queen, do? Call in the royal beautician? Commission a new gown? Acquire a more tactful wall ornament? Heavens no! She did what any truly rational fading diva would do: sent Snow into the forest with some ridiculous beefcake who was to cut out her dear step-son’s heart.





	Eight

It was frightfully clichéd, Snow thought, that his stepmother felt the need to align herself with the forces of evil. It wasn’t that he lacked appreciation for the high art of a truly tempestuous tantrum. He could hurl delicate china and slam doors with the best of them—hell, he was the best of them—but this, surely, was going too far. And all because some obsequious mirror (with impeccable taste) had pointed out that he, Snow, was the fairest in all the land. So what did the mad Queen do? Call in the royal beautician? Commission a new gown? Acquire a more tactful wall ornament? Heavens no! She did what any truly rational fading diva would do: sent Snow into the forest with some ridiculous beefcake who was to cut out her dear step-son’s heart.

Fortunately, Snow possessed the kind of refined beauty which the witless tended to see as delicate or even fragile. A quavering breath, a tremulous hand and a semblance of wide-eyed vulnerability were all it took for the beefcake to fall prey to his own aspirant chivalry, and Snow was free.

Granted, the whole roughing-it-in-the-woods situation wasn’t something he was accustomed to. He supposed that was true of many things. The life of a prince at court was possibly quite narrow, despite all its extravagance.

Snow wandered and thought.

Perspective, he decided, was everything. The cabin in front of him, for example, was charmingly rustic and not at all dilapidated. And its occupants... well… _yes_. There were seven of them, all so different from each other that Snow was inclined to label them in his mind dependent upon their charming quirks. Not that they were totally without similarities: they were all short, all men, and not one of them seemed to be languishing in grief over the total absence of women.

It was not something Snow would readily admit, but thus far his life had consisted of quite a lot of carefully constructed insinuation, and little actual experience.

Maybe along with perspective, he decided, what one needed was a touch of courage. Fortunately he had quite a few volunteers to help him find it.


End file.
